


cry your body out my dear

by irlmituna



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Author Projecting onto Tavros Nitram, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Eating Disorders, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt No Comfort, Lowercase, Sadstuck, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Trans Male Character, please give him a hug, tavros needs a hug, vent - Freeform, vriska mentioned once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlmituna/pseuds/irlmituna
Summary: tavros is suffering. if you were to ask him what was wrong, he would just break down in tears. so nobody ever asked him, and his emotions were left to die inside of him until time itself was over.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	cry your body out my dear

life was hard. being a kid was hard. it was all difficult for a childlike imagination, criticizing every detail on the body of tavros nitram. he believed that nobody would love him until he had the perfect body type. abhorrent, the knowledge of being unlovable for the rest of his days until he looked how they all wanted him to portray himself. why did nobody love him back? it was because of how fat he always looked. how feminine he always looked. how his stance never helped, only making him look more like a girl the more he thought about it. he was self-conscious about everything, and he was scared to admit it to people. every day, he gets more detached from the happier girl who he looked at in photos, memories of who he used to be fading.

even now as he stared at the mirror, dragging thin pencil sharpener blades across his skin, watching the rusted orange liquid pool on his skin, knowing he was forever unlovable, he didn't feel like he knew who he was or what he was doing with his own powerless life. he glared sharp daggers at each curve in his body. he wanted to get rid of them. he didn't want to be in pain anymore. so he decided on calorie restriction and fasting diets. they had worked. he noticed his arms getting thinner and his stomach getting flatter but it still wasn't enough. he cried in the same mirror every day, watching the orange tainted tears fall down his cheeks. he felt sick just looking at himself, and he felt urges to cover his body with baggy long-sleeved shirts and sweatpants. so that's what he did, and his fashion style gradually becoming something he only used to hide how sick he felt on the inside.

but as the days of his restrictions became weeks and months, he felt a comforting sorrow in the fact he had started to only allow hundreds of calories, wanting to spend his days fasting and melting away until he was finally skinny, finally free. tavros looked in the mirror again. once again, the curves on his body slaved him to a life of fear and self-loathing. he didn't know what to do. his attempts at self care were returned with the inner voices yelling back at him, telling him that he was fat, that he was ugly, that his boyfriend would never love him if he was a pig. he belonged with the other failures, living a life of homelessness and sickness, whether it be on alternia or the depressingly grey streets of earth. he missed his old self, the little girl he once knew and loved, when his only issues were scraping his knees in the playgrounds of his hive. he wanted to be strong, for himself and for everyone he loved, but it was hard. it was so, so difficult to maintain his mental health as it had once been.

on the seventeenth day he started to grow hungry again. he didn't want to be. it scared him, the thought of having to force yourself to eat so you didn't starve. in tav's mind, he needed to starve to become who he wanted to be. yet all he could do about this hunger was fall more in love with the thought of others caring about him, and realising that he was more than the weakened boy vriska had made him seem. he was too young to die but too old to stop worrying about the real world and what others would think of him, because he wanted his name to be known, yet when he could've been out saving alternia he cried to himself in the mirror, his stupid tears echoing in the aluminium surface of his reflection. he suddenly felt dizzy, everything spinning as he fell back onto the floor of his hive. it felt different from the times _the world had seemingly been spinning for him._

eventually he would die, eventually the world would stop spinning.

but for now he let himself rot.


End file.
